


Up From Hell

by scarletrobins



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Light Smut, light Lucifer x Reader, light Michael x Reader, there is angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:26:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24943813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletrobins/pseuds/scarletrobins
Summary: When Castiel drags Dean up from hell, he also brings a girl. He makes her stay with the Winchesters but doesn't give her a reason why. She's shy, and sticks close to Dean because he's the one who found her. When they find Anna, and the angels give her and Dean a choice, she freaks out. Dean and Sam don't know what happened to her in hell but then they find out.One night, after she helps Dean with a nightmare, they end up kissing and having sex. Then Dean starts getting closer to Anna and she feels alone. She calls Castiel, who has taken a special liking to her, and says she'll go back to hell if it means they leave Dean and Anna alone.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean Winchester/You
Kudos: 21





	1. Wake Up

When Y/n woke up, she didn't know what the fuck was going on. A man was standing above her, looking down concerned at her. She blinked, sitting up slowly as she looked around. Trees were fallen, it seemed as if there had been an explosion right from where she lay. 

"Where are we?" She asked, standing up and stretching her limbs. "I was just in-"  
"I'm gonna take a guess and say hell?" The man's gruff voice sounded, making her look up at him.   
"Yeah, were you..."  
"In hell? Yeah," he told her, swallowing and turning away. 

They began to walk, fining an abandoned store where they stocked up on water. She stuck close to the man, he was her only hope. 

"I'm Y/n," she told him, looking up at him with what he could only describe as wide doe-like eyes.   
"Dean," he told her, grabbing some water bottles and shoving them into a plastic bag.   
"Dean..." she mumbled, as if deep in thought. "Dean Winchester?" She finally asked, looking up to him with furrowed brows. 

Dean paused and looked at her. 

"Yeah, how do you know me? Are you a hunter?" Dean walked over to the cash register and looked up just as she shook her head.   
"No, I'm not a hunter, but I knew a couple," she told him, grabbing a few energy bars and walking over.

That's when the ringing started. 

****

Y/n stayed close to Dean as they set up the summoning room. He was the only familiar thing here, and she took comfort in that. She stood almost pressed into his side as Bobby recited the ritual. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her nails dug into her palms. 

Dean didn't know how to comfort her. Aside from the fact that he just wasn't good at it, he really didn't know her that well. 

Dean hesitantly wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pressing her to his side and hoping to calm her shaky breath. It did calm her down, one of her hands clenching in the back of his jacket. 

They had gotten to know each other some over the past little while. She was a little younger than him, and wouldn't tell him why she had gone to hell. Bobby knew her, somewhat, from a case a while ago, said she was a damn good researcher and it had made her blush. 

Nothing happened and they pulled apart, looking around. That's when the lights went out and the doors blew open. A small yelp fell from Y/n and her hand clutched tight to the back of Dean's shirt once more. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and pressed her close to him, shielding her body with his slightly. 

It was weird, but in a way, after all the torture that hell had brought, he was kind of glad to have someone to comfort. Someone who ran to him when they were scared. 

"My name is Castiel, and I am an angel of the lord. There is no need to be frightened," he told them, watching Y/n peak out from behind Dean. 

She came out, looking at Castiel apprehensively. 

Dean and the angel began to talk, finding out that he was the one who had dragged them up from hell for a purpose. Y/n listened quietly, hand still held tight onto Dean's jacket. When Castiel finally disappeared, shooting Y/n a soft look, she let out a deep breath, blinking rapidly before letting Dean go and stepping outside. She needed a minute, he could see the tremble in her hands. 

****

"I wanna come on the next hunt," Dean heard from in front of him. 

He had been cleaning his guns on the bed when she had come over from the kitchen table in the motel. 

"Sorry sweetheart, you're not a hunter." He heard her huff and he could almost see the pout on her lips. The thought made him smile.   
"Well, how can I become a hunter if you won't let me hunt?" She crossed her arms over her chest and stood there. Dean looked up and nodded in acknowledgement.   
"You still need practice, we'll start soon ok?" Dean watched the smallest smile pull at her lips and she nodded before looking down to what he was doing.   
"Can you teach me how to do that?" She asked, pointing to the guns laying across his bed. 

Dean smiled softly and nodded, patting the free spot in front of him. She sat down with a bright smile, their knees touching as she looked eagerly at his hands. 

Dean had realised that she was one of those people thirsty for knowledge. She was always reading, watching everything with a keen eye, and eager to learn anything anyone wanted to teach her. 

"Ok, hold it like this," he positioned her hands gently, grabbing the gun oil and showing her how to do it. She bit her lip in concentration and her brows furrowed. 

Sam watched this scene with a quizzical brow. Dean was anything but gentle. Gruff? Sure. Coarse? Definitely, but gentle? No. Yet whenever Sam saw him with Y/n, it seemed as if he were being... soft. He was gentler with her in everything he did. His commands were softer, his motions were turned down. He was... nice.

Sam knew it had nothing to do with the fact that she was a woman. He had seen Dean around women enough to know he was still all rough and tumble. Sam also knew it had nothing to do with Mary. Y/n didn't resemble Mary in any way, shape, or form. So Sam's conclusion was that she was different to Dean. In what way, he couldn't tell. 

"There, good job," Dean said quietly, looking at the gun as Y/n handed it to him gently. She beamed at him, happy that she was able to accomplish something so little. It brought a smile to Dean's face. He looked at her shining eyes and wondered how that wasn't snuffed out in hell. 

****

Dean was sitting at the table when he first heard it. It was small, barely a sound, but it sounded awfully a lot like a whimper. He turned to look where Y/n was laying, her hair splayed over the pillow as she curled in on herself. Her body shook with sobs, the sound more prominent now, and she clawed at the sheets in front of her. 

The sobs abruptly changed, a sharp intake of breath, before she was sitting up. Dean watched as she pushed herself to the edge of the bed, arms shaking, legs quivering, as she pushed and up and clipped her hair back. 

Tears left tracks down her cheeks as she wiped at her red eyes, trying to calm her quaking chest. She stood up and walked to the kitchen, spotting the dim light and finding Dean watching her. She didn't meet Dean's eyes, grabbing a glass of water and sipping at it as she moved to sit next to Dean. 

He watched her from his peripheral vision, her seat shifting till she was pressed against his side. Then she leaned forward and rested her arms on the table, soon laying her head on them.

Dean didn't mind. The night was kind of cold and she was warm. He held out his arm before resting it over her gently. She turned her head and he saw her pained, watery eyes. It broke his heart. 

She sat up and he pulled her onto his lap, holding her close as her legs fell to either side of the chair. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and sobbed, trembling in his arms. Dean wrapped his arms around her tighter, holding her to him as if someone were trying to rip them apart. 

They sat like that till her sobs began to subside. Her body began to tremble less, her hands loosened from the back of his shirt and she began to pull away from him, making his arms loosen, then drop to her waist. 

Her eyes were still red, tears shined on her cheeks, and her bottom lip quivered slightly, but the way she looked at him made his heart thud harder in his chest. He could hear the blood rushing in his ears, and his fingers felt like they were throbbing. She looked at him like he was her saviour. Like he was the reason she was still alive today. 

"You alright now?" He asked, thumb rubbing back and forth over the skin of her hip, exposed between her shorts and night shirt. She nodded softly, like a vulnerable child, and looked down between them, fiddling with her fingers.   
"I'm sorry," she mumbled, not looking up to his eyes. 

He place two fingers under her chin and lifted her head up, making her look him in the eye. 

"You have nothing to be sorry for," he told her, rubbing her back before getting up, carrying her back to her bed. 


	2. Why Was She In Hell

When Y/n woke up the next morning, her eyes ached slightly. She knew why, but it made her blush all the same. 

At breakfast she made eye contact with Dean, and he smiled softly at her, nothing out of the usual, and it made her smile in return. 

They were heading to another town for another case. She couldn't leave them, Castiel said they had to stay together now. She really didn't mind, Sam was good company, and Dean was... well. Dean was Dean. Gruff yet gentle. Caring yet harsh. He made her feel safe, that's all that mattered. 

They all hopped into the car and drove off. 

Dean and Y/n had a new routine. Any nightmare, any disturbance at night, they were in each others arms. It was weird how helpful just holding someone could be. Just knowing that they were holding you, knowing that they were there, seemed to be enough. It was weird, but it worked. 

****

They had to find Anna. She was gonna solve this. Whatever 'this' was. 

****

The angels stood in front of the humans, staring them down. Y/n looked at Castiel, meeting his steely blue gaze. His lip quirked, just slightly, and she stepped closer to Dean, the unfamiliar situation making her heart race. 

"We dragged you up from hell, we can throw you right back," Castiel's gravelly voice echoed, and Y/n felt her blood rush in her ears.

She couldn't go back. It was too much. Her breaths became ragged and her hands clenched tight into fists. 

"No." She whimpered, eyes clenching shut and body shaking. "No, no, no," her lungs felt too tight and she needed to run, she had to get away. Castiel, with a secret flick of his fingers opened one of the doors. 

Y/n saw the movement and ran out the door. Running, and running, and running, till she couldn't breathe. Her legs gave out, muscles burning under her. Her mind still screamed but she couldn't run anymore. She sat back against a tree, sobbing so hard the tree bark scratched her back. Tears poured viciously from her eyes and her surroundings were blurred. 

Y/n didn't know how long she was there crying, but soon enough Dean and San were dropping down to their knees in front of her. Dean was pushing the hair back from her face, trying to make her look at him, but she continued staring at her legs. Sam asked if she was ok over and over but it seemed she couldn't hear them, lost in her thoughts. 

"You don't know what happened," she mumbled, eyes lost. Sam and Dean both paused, staring at her as she began to talk. "I made a deal, to save my sister. She was dying, and no one would save her, we didn't even have enough money." Her voice was steady, as if she were far away, speaking to herself. "I did what I could, but it was never enough. Then I heard about the crossroads deals, but of course, there was a price. The demon wouldn't agree. I got two months with my sister. She was all happy and excited to do everything. No one could tell how she was miraculously cured. I was ok with what I did." She took a deep breath, rubbing her nose absentmindedly. "Two months were up so quick, and then I was in hell. They hurt me, in every way possible, over and over, and over." Her voice broke, memories replaying in her mind's eye. "Then..." she hesitated, swallowing and looking up.

She met Dean's eyes and he felt his heart stop. There was so much pain in her eyes, as if her soul had been torn apart. 

"They tortured souls in front of me, and they... they made them look like my sister. They made her scream and cry and bleed. Right in front of me.   
When I came back, I found out she had died about a month after me," she fell into another round of sobs, body shaking violently once more. "What if that was actually her? What if she was really the one being burned and cut into?! I..." she sobbed even harder and they began to turn into screams. 

She couldn't live like this anymore, hiding it all inside. Dean and Sam sat back, looking at her. She was a good person, and look at what had happened to her. Dean leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her onto his lap and rocking her softly as he shushed her. Her head was tucked under his chin and he kept her tight against him. Afraid to let her go, he laced his fingers together behind her back. 

She clenched tight to his shirt, whimpering against his neck. Dean carried her to the Impala, setting her down in the backseat as she slowly drifted off. 

****

Somehow she felt even more tired when she woke up. Her eyelids fluttered and she could hear Dean talking to someone. 

"We can't let anything happen to her Bobby," she sat up slowly and saw Dean on the other side of the room, phone pressed to his ear.

He had his back to her, not knowing that she had got up till he heard the rustling of sheets. Dean turned around and saw her standing by the side of the bed. He pulled the phone from his ear and disconnected the call, slipping it into the pocket of his jeans. 

"Hey," he began, rubbing his sweaty palms down the front of his jacket. It was as if he didn't know how to act around her anymore and it made both of them feel rather nervous.   
"Hi," she responded quietly, voice soft and light, dancing over the air and around them.   
"How are you feeling?" She just nodded, averting her gaze to the floor, rubbing the sides of her hands together. 

She was nervous, Dean knew that little tick of hers. His booths thumped closer till she could see the toes from the edge of her vision. Dean's hand came up and pushed up from under her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. He had on a small smile, trying to tell her it was ok, they were ok. Y/n moved forward and hugged Dean, pressed tight to him as he wrapped his arms around her. 

"It's alright, I won't let anything happen to you," he mumbled, lips pressed to her hair. 

She nodded, because she believed him. She would always believe him because Dean cared about her. 

"Can I get breakfast?" She finally asked, face pressed to his chest so tight her words came out mumbled. Dean pulled away with a chuckle, watching her totter about the kitchen and grab the food Dean had brought her from the diner while she was sleeping. "OO! Grilled cheese! Yes!" He heard her exclaimed, a smile making it's way onto his face as he watched her. 

She was adorable. 


	3. I'll Go Back For Him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I did steal the song from Tangled. No, I don't have any regrets.

It was late at night. One of those nights where Y/n had given up on trying to sleep and instead chose to read on of their lore books. 

She was at the kitchen table, a chair facing the beds, one empty, one shifting a little. She watched Dean a little more carefully, his head moving side to side, eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched. His arms were tense and he kept moving, uncomfortable in his skin. 

Dean suddenly shot up, breath heavy, hands clenched into his fists and eyes wild. Y/n had jumped when he shot up and she stood from her chair, walking hesitantly to Dean. He turned to look at her, eyes wild and scared, pain highlighting it all. 

She gently sat down beside him, putting her hands over his fists. Slowly his fingers relaxed and he leaned against the head board, holding her hands and pulling her onto his lap. She sttled comfortably, wrapping her arms around him and koala-hugging his abdomen. 

"My mom used to sing this for me before I went to sleep," she told him softly, resting her face in the crook of his neck. "Flower, gleam and flow, let your power shine," she softly sang the lullaby, her lips rubbing against his neck every time she sang a new word.

Goosebumps ran down the back of his neck and he held her tighter. He wouldn't ever dream of letting her go. He couldn't. She needed him and, in a way, he needed her. She made him happy, with little things she probably didn't even think about. Letting him hold her when she was sad, asking him to teach her how to clean a gun, asking about cases he had been on. All of it made him happier because she was ready to listen to him. She trusted him and tried to make him feel better. 

As she finished the beautiful lullaby, she pulled back and looked at him. His eyes shined at her, a deep connection strapping them together through their gaze. Neither could look away, they didn't want to either. They were trapped in a moment, prisoners to their own desires. Her lips were parted slightly, and her breath was shallow. Dean glanced down looking at the plump, pink lips, licking his own. 

She moved closer, just slightly, the few centimetres of air the only thing keeping them from kissing. Dean made the final move. He kissed her and closed his eyes, immersing himself in the moment. A small sound left her lips, of what, he didn't know, but she began to kiss him back. 

She was a soft kisser, most likely inexperienced judging by the hesitance in her movements. It warmed his heart. His hands moved up and down softly, caressing her through her clothes, till they finally held tight to her hips, squeezing them. A soft moan left her lips and he used it as an opportunity to introduce his tongue to the kiss. 

Their chests felt tight, and when the lack of air finally became unbearable, they pulled away. Y/n's eyes were still closed and her forehead was pressed to his, their noses bumping against each other as they moved slightly. Their chests heaved and rubbed against each other, her thin shirt rubbing against his bare chest. 

Then Dean was kissing her again, rubbing her sides again. Taking her breath away again. Then he was kissing her again, and again, and again, till she couldn't remember her name even if she tried. Then his hands were moving higher, groping deftly at her chest before he cupped her breasts through her shirt. She mewled softly, pressing herself harder against him, needing more. She rolled her hips, pressing them down against him as a groan left his lips. It vibrated through her, hands clenching his shirt tight. 

They wouldn't let go. They couldn't. All these feelings, everything in the atmosphere was bubbling, heaving and boiling till they were at their release. Dean pulled her shirt up, discarding it somewhere in the room. This would be a long night. 

****

The sun tickled her eyes and she scrunched them up, shifting to push her face deeper into the soft pillow under her. The pillow groaned, vibrating under her, and her eyes shot open. A bare, warm body was pressed under her, shifting and pulling her tighter to him. A face pressed into her neck, soft breaths fanning over her shoulder as the lips ran bak and forth over her shoulder. 

"Mornin'," rumbled the body under her, quivering slightly when she shifted and her thigh rubbed against his groin.   
"Morning," she squeaked, lifting her head and looking into his green eyes. Gorgeous green eyes that sparkled at her. 

She sat up properly, holding the covers close to her chest as she looked around for her shirt, nowhere to be found. 

"Here," Dean helped her put his shirt on, kissing the back of her neck as she finished slipping it on. 

Y/n got up, shuffling to the bathroom as Dean watched on with a smile. When she came back out, Den was already at the kitchen table with Sam. She blushed and sat down, eyes trained on the parcel Dean pushed to her. It was a sandwich. A grilled cheese, with thick toasty white brea and a yellow cheesy centre that pulled apart. She moaned and took a huge bite, eyes closing in sheer bliss. 

"Oh my god, this might just be the best grilled cheese sandwich I've ever had!" She exclaimed, taking another huge bite and moaning again. 

Dean watched her, chewing on his burger as his pants tightened. How was she so beautiful without even knowing it? 

"So," Sam began awkwardly, looking between them with his eyebrows raised. "Last night was fun," he sarcastically remarked, coughing and sipping from his smoothie. 

Y/n blushed a deep red and dropped the sandwich mid bite. Her eyes widened and she looked between Dean and Sam, mouth still open. Dean kept chewing and Sam kept sipping at his green smoothie. 

"Yeah, it really was," Dean smirked at Sam as the taller brother grumbled. Y/n gulped, eating her sandwich once more. 

****

Dean and y/n had grown closer. Secret, chaste kisses shared in the deep night. Those were moments they both cherished. They were the moments that either could call upon to make them feel better and it always worked. 

****

Her grace was gone. What were they supposed to do if Anna couldn't find her grace? They all sat together in the warehouse, Y/n a few ways away from the others. 

Things had been going so well, but then Anna came back. Anna came back and suddenly Dean was all with her. Y/n didn't want to feel jealous. It was an ugly emotion, and she hated it, but seeing him hover over the fallen angel, and cast her aside as if nothing but an old rag, hurt so much. 

It had been a while of this, and she couldn't take it anymore. Dean was barely even looking at her now, and she could see the toll the threat of hell had taken on him. 

Anna placed her hand on Dean's arm and Y/n turned around with tears in her eyes. Dean deserved better, Anna deserved better, they deserved better together. She couldn't just watch this all happen. 

****

Dean quickly realised that it might've been a bad idea to teach Y/n how to hot-wire a car when he realised she was gone. He had been busy, really busy, and hadn't noticed. 

Y/n had decided what she was going to do. She would make a deal with Cas. That's what had to be done. Someone needed to make a sacrifice, and she was the only one that had nothing let to live for. She could go back, she would go back for Dean. It was worth it. 

She knew exactly where she wanted to do it too. That's why she had needed the car. She was going home. 

****

The door opened with a slight creek. 'It never used to creek,' she thought, looking into the hall of the abandoned house. All her memories from her life were in this house. She started here, she would end here too. 

She walked through the house, all the old pictures, all the old furniture , everything she had missed. Everything that had been taken from her along with her life was here. 

When she reached her old bedroom she stopped in the doorway. Her bed sat where it had always been, wrought iron frame pressed against the wall, fluffy pillows piled up at the head. Her flowery duvet lay folded properly, just like after her mom had been in there. A tear escaped her eye. 

The large bookshelves were just as they had been, crammed into the corners, and overflowing with books. 

She walked over to the socket where her fairy-lights had been plugged in. Praying it would work, she switched on and the lights around the room lit up. A small smile made its way onto her face as she stood in front of her bed, staring around the room. 

Y/n pulled the hex bag from her pocket and stared at it. A small felt bag was keeping her hidden from everything trying to kill her. She flicked the lighter open and held it under the bag. 

****

Dean knew where she was going, but he also knew she had a head start. Last night on Earth, she was going home. 

Dean grabbed his keys and ran out of the warehouse, ignoring the shouts behind him. Nothing mattered aside from her. His idiotic, stupid, absolutely beautiful and way too nice girl. 

Dean didn't care if the cops chased him, he just needed to get to her before she did something stupid. 

****

"Castiel?" Her eyes began to water and she gulped, trying to get the lump out of her throat. "Castiel, please," she begged, rubbing her eyes, and when they blinked open, there he stood. His trench coat was as usual, his eyes steely.   
"Yes, Y/n," his gruff voice sounded, a shiver running down her back.   
"I'll go," she whispered, clenching her fists.   
"What?" Castiel's head tilted and eyebrows furrowed.   
"I'll go to hell, I'll go to some prison, I'll do whatever, but..." she paused, taking a deep breath, mind flashing back to hell unintentionally. "You have to make sure Dean is safe. Leave Dean as he is, and take me instead." She clenched her jaw and stared Castiel down, for once not shying away from his intense gaze. 

Castiel gulped softly, stepping closer. He stepped, and stepped, and stepped till he was only about a foot in front of her. 

"You are willing to sacrifice your life for that man?"   
"Absolutely not!" Screamed a voice behind her. 

She turned around with blurry eyes and Castiel lifted his head to look at Dean. Dean rushed forward and pressed his hand to the door where he had drawn the sigil in his blood. Castiel was blasted away and Dean grabbed Y/n, carrying her in his arms as he ran to the Impala. 

Her body shook in his tight grip, lungs tight with every sob. She clung to his shirt as if it were her last shred of hope and buried her face into his chest. 

****

Dean set her down in the passenger seat before tearing out of the driveway, the wheels of the Impala screeching loudly against the asphalt. 

Y/n curled up into a ball on the seat, face pressed to her knees as she sobbed and cried. It was a long while before she calmed down. They were already halfway back to the warehouse. 

"Why did you come?" She finally asked, voice clogged and hoarse from the tears.   
"What the fuck does that mean? I came to keep you around and to stop you from doing something hella stupid." He responded angrily. 

Dean's grip on the steering wheel made his hands hurt, but he couldn't let go. He might breakdown if he let go. 

"I wasn't doing something stupid," she argued, uncurling slightly with her anger. Her feet dropped to the floor of the Impala and she sat up, rubbing the tears from her cheeks. Her nose shined from the lights on the street and her eyes were puffy. "I don't do anything. You're the one who will save the world, you do all the hard work and I don't. I'm ok going back to hell if it means you can stay." She told him, indignation running rampant in her eyes. 

Dean pulled the car over to the side of the road and turned to look at her. His eyes were ablaze with so emotions. Pain, sadness, anger, love, all of it muddled together. 

Dean let out a sigh, dropping his head and shaking it. Then he looked back up and reached for her hands. 

"Don't say you don't do anything. That's the biggest load of bull crap I've ever heard. You keep me alive. You do research that helps us get rid of things that kill people. You... you make me realise I can fall in love." He finished, his own eyes watering as he stared at her. Her breath was shallow and her heart was full. Dean didn't want to let her go, Dean wouldn't let her go. 

Y/n dropped her head and let out a shaky breath. 

"Dean... I love you, so much," she told him, gulping down a breath.

He leaned over and pulled her face to his, kissing her with all the passion in his body. It was a firm kiss, not particularly hard but still firm, and she could feel everything he was trying to communicate. Every ounce of love, care, passion, and pure, utter, need. 

His hands gripped her head, fingers digging into her hair aggressively. He moved them down to grip under her arms and he lifted her onto his lap, her hips undulating against his in a frantic rhythm. 

She pulled away from the kiss and looked into his eyes, staring at him for a moment. Dean smiled at her and kissed her again, shorter this time, before allowing her to slide back into her seat. They drove the rest of the way back with his hand on her thigh. 

****

Y/n tossed and turned on the bed, face scrunched up in torment. She was deep in dreamland, lost in a haze of darkness. Then, all of a sudden, she was sitting in a field, staring at the blue sky. She stood up, brushing down her night gown as she looked around. As far as the eye could see, tall grass, up to the middle of her shin, spread out. There was something in the distance, trotting closer, and she soon realised it was a horse. 

A beautiful black horse trotted closer to her, stopping when it was right in front of her. Y/n reached out slowly, hearing the horse huff and push its nose into her hand. She began petting the horse gently, running her hands up and down its neck, humming some gentle melody to it. 

"You are good with animals," came a gruff voice from behind her. She jumped with a small squeak, spooking the horse making it run off.   
"Castiel, she breathed out, turning around and looking at the trench coat-clad angel. 

Castiel watched her, gesturing beside him where a bench appeared. 

"Are we in a dream?" She asked gently, sitting down on the bench and patting the spot beside her. Castiel sat down hesitantly, leaning forward and resting his arms on his thighs.   
"This is the only way I can speak with you," he told her, receiving a soft nod in response.   
"What do you need?"   
"Dean to say yes," she sighed. 

Y/n knew where this was going. After Castiel came back, he had been just like the other angels, desperate for Dean to say yes, desperate for Dean to accept Michael into him. 

"Castiel..." she began slowly, rubbing her forehead with a frown. "You know I won't do that. Dean is not just some body for this archangel to use." She looked at Castiel with a plain expression.   
"There are... many things you do not know Y/n," he told her hesitantly, finally sitting back and looking at her. "Dean and you all know that he is to be Michael's vessel, the sword of heaven, but you all have not learnt what your part to play is. Y/n do you know why you were raised from the depths of hell?" 

She opened her moth as if to answer, but nothing came out. Why was she here? Why did they drag her up from hell? What is the purpose of her being alive? Y/n closed her mouth and turned to Castiel. 

"Why did the angels bring me back to Castiel?" She asked softly, looking at him with pleading eyes. Castiel tore his eyes from her and looked back to the ground. 

"You are to be Michael's lover." 


	4. Dreams

Y/n stood up and stared at Castiel, eyes wide and disbelieving. What the hell was that supposed to mean. 

"What the hell does that mean, Cas?"

He could tell she was angry, he could see it in her eyes and the way she clenched her fist at her sides like an angry child. "What. Does. That. Mean. Castiel!" She shouted, glaring at him with such ferociousness that he had to lean back. 

"You are to be the lover of Michael... and Lucifer," he added hesitantly, wincing as he said it. Her eyes widened and her heart raced, what... that didn't make any sense. What?   
"What... Castiel please explain," she begged, dropping to her knees in front of him with tears in her eyes. "Please, Castiel."   
"It was written into fate long before any of you were even born," he began, helping her back onto the bench. 

She listened patiently, trying to calm her erratic heart rate. 

"It was prophesied, and was the only truth ever told by the whore of Babylon. There is a woman, she is to be the lover of the archangel Michael, and the greatest regret of Lucifer. When the time comes for both of them, they will come to Earth and meet you. They shall meet the woman with a heart of gold, the only one who love the devil. Lucifer will fall in love with you, but Michael will have you in the end." Castiel watched her throughout the story. The way her cheeks paled with fear, her hands trembled and eyes widened. "Lucifer will end all for you, so will Michael, but once they fight it out, the winner will have you."   
"But how are they supposed to love me?! They don't even know me! And-and I love Dean, I don't love them." 

Her chest heaved, her eyes widened, and she paced frantically in front of Castiel. Her night gown swished around her thighs and she looked to the sky. A flap of wings was heard and she looked back to find someone standing only about a foot in front of her. It wasn't Castiel. 

He was tall, with bright blue eyes and a steely stare. He dressed like a hunter, flannel, jeans, boots, and a jacket over the other two layers. He stood uncomfortably close, and stared at her so intently it felt like he was trying to analyse every skin cell. 

"Hello Castiel," he rumbled, voice deep, and rather enticing. 

She finally met his gaze, holding her breath. 

"What are you doing here?" Castiel asked, getting up and walking closer, but the man snapped his fingers and Castiel disappeared right before her eyes. 

Y/n turned back to the man, and just as her mouth opened to say something, he reached forward and caressed her cheek. 

"You really are as beautiful as we were told," he whispered, cupping her face with one hand and holding it firmly.   
"Who are you?" She whispered, wanting to pull away but at the same time...   
"Oh my darling," he cooed, pulling her closer and pressing his front tight to hers. "You will know who I am soon enough," he continued to stare at her, as if memorising her features.   
"You're in my dream, shouldn't I know who you are?" Y/n inquired softly, biting her lip. 

His eyes flicked down to the movement, staring a moment, before returning his eyes to hers. He laughed gently and stroked her cheek, using his other hand to push some hair back from her face. 

"My darling," he rumbled, "when the time comes you will know exactly who I am, and when that time is here..." he trailed off and looked above her, staring off into the distance. "When that time comes you and I will be together outside your dream." 

She looked quizzically up at the blue eyed man, trying to read him. It didn't seem possible. The man leaned down and pressed his lips to hers softly. Just as she felt the press of his lips against hers, she shot up in bed. 

****

Dean pet her head as she cried against his chest. He glared at the wall in front of them, jaw set and nostrils flared. Michael had no business being in Y/n's head. If he thought this was making Dean want to say yess, even for a second, he was sorely mistaken. This only made him angrier. 

Y/n was his girl, they loved each other, and no stupid, dumbass archangel was going to come and take that from them. 

"Here," he began to gently lay her down. "You go to sleep, and I'll be right back," he told her, tucking the covers around her and kissing her forehead.   
"Dean, where are you going?" She asked softly, blinking up at him with innocent eyes.   
"Nowhere, sweetheart, nowhere, you just go back to sleep and I'll be back by the time you wake up." He kissed her forehead again, then stroked her hair till her eyelids fluttered closed and she had drifted off. 

Dean got up quietly and left the room, careful not to waker her. Once he was far from the room and by the car, he angrily prayed to Castiel. 

"Hello Dean," came from behind him, and he spun on his heel angrily.   
"You bastard! You come into her dream and you fuck her all up. Then Michael comes in?! You tell that bastard never to come near her again. In fact, you tell all your little angel bastards to stay the fuck away from her." He angrily poked Castiel in the chest. His chest heaved, and he paced slightly, trying to work off all the pressure and tension building in him.   
"It is her destiny Dean, you cannot keep her from it," Dean whirled around and glared at Castiel.   
"No, she is not something you can whore around," he argued.   
"It is her destiny," Castiel said one final time before flapping off. 

****

When she woke up this time, it was on a beach. The sand was grey and grainy beneath her feet, her toes digging in happily. The beach was where some of her favourite memories were. 

She looked out across the water, the sea foaming right by her feet. One more step and she'd be in the shallow. She took it, shivering slightly when the water lapped at her ankles. A small smile graced her face and she walked a little farther. The hem of her dress dipped into the water, but she didn't care. 

This was nice, a calm dream for once, and the beach was beautiful. Cliffs rose up farther out and she could see the wind dance on the grass above them. 

"You know, the beach was once my favourite place on this planet," came a voice from beside her. 

Y/n jumped slightly and looked to the side. 

There he stood, a blonde man. His eyes were like the colour of the water on a good day, and some blonde scruff grew on his cheeks. He was watching her, but his eyes were soft, caring. 

"Why are there always other people in my dreams?" She sighed, but the man only chuckled.

He stepped closer, the water splooshing around his feet, till he was right by her side, his cool skin rubbing lightly against her. 

"Hello sweetheart." 


End file.
